


When We Kiss We're Perfectly Aligned

by chromyrose



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: First Love, Fluff, Getting Together, Graduation, Love Confessions, M/M, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 00:40:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7663432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chromyrose/pseuds/chromyrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yamaguchi is ready to confess to Asahi, before he graduates and it's too late. He isn't prepared for Asahi's response.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When We Kiss We're Perfectly Aligned

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for the birthday of a friend who is very near and dear to me. She mentioned once that she was very interested in this pairing, and knowing that I couldn't help but want to write some of it for her. The title comes from the song "Such Great Heights" by The Postal Service, but it was [this particular cover](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OIyyYjUg0bc) that both inspired the fic and was playing on repeat as I wrote it.
> 
> I tried to fit this into a plausible version of canon, but it probably isn't totally canon compliant!

Figuring out when to confess to Asahi had been hard. Graduation presented itself first as the ideal time, but also the most cowardly; a confession as Asahi was leaving school meant that Yamaguchi would avoid the consequences if things didn't work out. And as much as his anxious belly wanted that sort of a security blanket, it felt like a sly way to go about talking about his feelings.

Asahi's birthday was also out of the question, as was anything else before Nationals, because Yamaguchi wasn't willing to compromise the team for something as inconsequential as his stuttering heartbeat. Confessing on Valentine's Day would probably be really emasculating, but by the same token, so would being confessed to on White Day.

In the end, it happens on an ordinary day at the end of February. Yamaguchi surprises himself with the confession, as much as he surprises Asahi; probably the only person who had anticipated anything was Tsukishima, who noted, “If you stare at Asahi-san any harder, you'll bore a hole into his head,” during morning practice.

And Asahi was only visiting morning practice anyways, because he was retired from the team just as all the third-years were, but he wasn't studying for an entrance exams. It was probably the look on his face that did Yamaguchi's heart in; a little lost, the way he looked the first time they met, when Asahi showed up late and was coerced into the match with the Neighborhood Association. Yamaguchi's stomach is restless all throughout his morning classes, and come lunch time the idea of eating is viscerally unappealing. He tells Tsukishima that he's going for a walk, and his feet take him upstairs, to the door of the third-year Class 3 room.

Yamaguchi reaches for the seed of courage that he draws on whenever he's up to serve, and slides the door open. Some of the third years look up, but Asahi isn't one of them. He's chewing slowly on a mouthful of something while he reads a book held open on his desk. Yamaguchi knows it's embarrassing how endearing he finds that image, which gets filed away in his mind immediately.

“Asahi-san,” he calls quietly, his voice meshing with the low din of the classroom's conversation. Somehow Asahi manages to hear him, as he looks up to the door immediately, somewhat anxiously. He seems to relax a little when he sees Yamaguchi, his shoulders falling from their hunch, but his expression is as confused as Yamaguchi's ever seen it. He swallows the mouthful of food and turns his open book upside-down, then comes out into the hall.

“Yamaguchi? Is everything okay?”

“Can we talk?” He asks, a little too defensively. “I just. Want to talk.”

Asahi is pouting slightly, his brows furrowed in concern, but all Yamaguchi can do is stare intently at him until he agrees to talk. Karasuno High School doesn't have too many empty places, but Yamaguchi leads them to a deserted stairwell and sends up a silent prayer to whatever deity is listening that no one disturbs this.

“Is everything okay?” Asahi asks again, when Yamaguchi finally stops moving at the highest landing the staircase has to offer, in front of a locked door that grants roof access only to those with the key. He looks even more concerned than he did outside of the classroom, and on him the expression vaguely resembles nausea. Knowing that feeling all too well, Yamaguchi uses their shared anxiety to force himself to speak.

“I really like you, Asahi-san.” The words tumble out just the way he's imagined saying them so many times in the past; Yamaguchi doesn't even realize he's said this with his eyes screwed shut until he becomes aware that he can't see Asahi's reaction. He opens his eyes slowly, one before the other, as if a slight peek of the shock his senpai must be feeling will make the full effect easier to handle.

And Asahi is shocked, with his mouth the slightest bit open and his eyes as wide as saucers. His eyebrows have traveled so far up his forehead, they're nearly one with his hairline. Yamaguchi doesn't know if he's supposed to say anything to fix that, and if he is, he has no idea what those magic words are. All he can do is wait and watch, measuring the time in the erratic pulses of his heart against his ribcage.

“...You like me?” Asahi repeats eventually. “Really, Yamaguchi?”

“Really really,” he insists. His hands are balled up in tight fists so that he can pretend they're not about to shake right off. “Asahi-san, I'm sorry if this isn't something you wanted to know, but I couldn't- I had to say something, I...”

Asahi looks at him, and Yamaguchi dares to think that it's without disgust. He's perhaps not as good at reading people the way someone like Suga is, but he thinks Asahi's expressions are simple enough to dissect. If he had to guess, he would say Asahi looks conflicted.

“It isn't that I don't want to know,” he starts slowly, as if putting his words together like a jigsaw puzzle. “It's just not what I was expecting. I don't know what I was expecting – I think I thought you were going to tell me you had cancer, or that my fly's been unzipped everyday for the past week. Not that I think those two things are comparable! Just that I thought this would be something bad.”

“And... now you think it's not?” Yamaguchi asks hopefully, with his heart up in his throat.

Asahi's Adam's apple bobs visibly up and down as he swallows in silence. Then, “To be honest, Yamaguchi, I've never thought of you that way. But! But that doesn't mean I _couldn't_...”

“Do you even like boys, Asahi-san?!” Yamaguchi stammers, too loud and too fast. He can't help it, with how his heart has dropped into his stomach. Asahi looks embarrassed, and his hand moves to grip the nape of his neck as he answers sheepishly.

“Yeah... But just in general, I try not to think about it too much. Because in most cases it's not something I can really have...”

Yamaguchi understands, but it upsets him that Asahi is so jaded, too. He wonders who it was that rejected him, if there was such a someone. Then he wonders if maybe it was the opposite that happened, and if there was someone who loved Asahi before, and then hurt him; the idea makes the bile churn in his gut.

“T-Then, in that case, please don't answer me now!” Yamaguchi decides, ducking down into a low bow, his back straight as a rod. “Please try to think of me that way first, Asahi-san, if you can manage it.”

–

Late February turns into early March, and the class of Karasuno's third-years graduates. Yamaguchi attends, along with the rest of the volleyball team, and when they're all in their gym afterwards to congratulate their senpai personally, he notices the second button is still there on Asahi's gakuran. He wasn't expecting anything different, but it would be a lie to pretend there hadn't been a sliver of hope inside of him. Asahi's eyes catch his and he smiles warmly, cheeks, eyes and nose all a little too pink from crying. He's so beautiful it sort of hurts Yamaguchi's heart more than if he'd been outright rejected, completely ignored.

His confession hasn't come up in the past week and a half, and he's trying to teach himself patience. No answer means that there is no answer; it does not mean that Asahi cannot love him, or that no one else ever will, either.

Volleyball practice does not stop even when they are on vacation from school, because they are a Nationally Ranked team now. Yamaguchi decides to throw himself into practice, to impress Ennoshita and Ukai-san so that they'll hopefully make him a starter. It's only a matter of time until there are new first years to contend with, and he wants to get in there before the competition arrives.

And it's strange when the gym door opens and their third years are back, the day after graduation; it shouldn't be, because none of them are moving away to their schools for at least another week, but it is. They're not in uniforms or jerseys, or even athletic wear of any kind, except the sneakers.

Asahi is with them, of course, and he waves a little shyly when he meets Yamaguchi's gaze. Yamaguchi wipes his palms down the length of his shorts.

The senpai stay for the rest of practice, but they don't participate. They sit on the sidelines with Yachi and Takeda and heckle them, call out corrections, praise, warnings, and at one point Suga catcalls Tanaka when he lifts his shirt to wipe his sweaty brow. Most of the team laughs along, but Yamaguchi forgets to as he's too busy watching Asahi reprimand Suga.

When practice ends and they are done cleaning the gym, Asahi calls out, “Yamaguchi?”

Yamaguchi can feel Tsukishima's eyes on him as he heads over, heart racing again the way it'd been when they were in the thick of drills. Asahi must notice this too, because he looks over Yamaguchi's shoulder, and then murmurs once he's in earshot, “Do you have plans for later? With Tsukishima?”

“No,” Yamaguchi says quickly, and it's not untrue; he and Tsukishima rarely plan things in advance, with how long they've been friends and how natural it is for them to be in each other's company. Whatever they might have done later, there was no way it would be more meaningful to Yamaguchi than finally getting closure on his 'situation' with Asahi.

For good measure, he turns around and tries to keep his voice even and casual as he calls out, “I'll text you later, Tsukki!” Fortunately, Tsukishima understands that he's been dismissed and is also not in the mood to be an asshole, and so he heads out to the club room with everyone else.

They're the last two in the gym, except for Yachi, who is counting the equipment in the closet. Asahi wordlessly tilts his head, mouths 'Outside?' and Yamaguchi nods. He's aware that he's still sweaty and disgusting from practice, that his white t-shirt has rings of moisture around the neck and under the arms, but he can't be bothered to ask for time to change when the answer is seconds away.

Asahi leads him to a tree that's ahead of the others, already thick with foliage, a few steps away from the gym's entrance. He pauses, and bites on his lip.

“Asahi-san,” Yamaguchi says without preamble. “I can handle rejection. Please don't try to sugarcoat it.” He doesn't have the strength to listen to Asahi's rambling about how he's great, no really, but it just won't work out–

“I'm not going to reject you,” Asahi interrupts Yamaguchi's racing thoughts, and Yamaguchi finds he has no idea how long it took Asahi to get that out, he was so lost in his own head.

“You're... not?” He murmurs hopefully, voice painfully tight.

Asahi swallows hard, and then shakes his head. When he faces Yamaguchi again, there's a shy smile on his face that makes him truly look eighteen. His hand moves like he's trying to reach out, but doesn't know where to put his palm. “Yamaguchi. Will... Will you go out on a date with me?”

Yamaguchi almost gapes at him, as his heart balloons with elation. “Of course I will, Asahi-san! Why did you have to ask, when I already told you how I feel?”

“I don't know... I guess I worried you were upset that I took so long. I thought about what you said – not just the confession part. The um, the trying to reciprocate part?” Asahi pauses here and wipes his lip with a sweep of his hand. “I hadn't thought about it before, but you make it really easy. To like you. M-Maybe that's just because I think we're a lot alike, but you feel... safe.”

Safe. Not 'sexy,' or not 'charming,' and not even 'cute.' Just 'safe.' But Yamaguchi isn't discouraged; rather, in this moment it feels like he's realizing all over again why he fell in love with Asahi in the first place. In this moment, 'safe' is the best praise he could ever get.

“You feel safe, too, Asahi-san,” he whispers. His body is moving closer to Asahi's, and he can't be sure but he thinks that Asahi's is moving closer to him, too. The open palm that hovered awkwardly between them before settles over his ribcage, Asahi's knuckles brushing the sensitive insides of Yamaguchi's arm. It drives him to continue, “I was so grateful, when you came back to the team. That there was someone nervous like me, anxious like me... Even though I'm not nearly as good as you are.”

“You'll get there,” Asahi assures, his voice low and sexy-deep.

“A-And you'll help me...?”

“If that's what you want.”

Yamaguchi licks his lips. “Asahi-san. Why haven't we kissed yet...?”

“Sorry,” Asahi whispers, brushing the word over Yamaguchi's lips, then pressing their mouths together to hold it there. Yamaguchi would laugh, but Asahi's lips are chapped and there's a breeze that's chilling his sweat-soaked body but Asahi is so warm Yamaguchi wants to sink into his furnace – laughing is the furthest thing from his mind.

And Asahi is on the forefront, right where he belongs.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, please let me know with a comment and/or kudos. You can visit me online at these other places: [tumblr](http://zahhaked.tumblr.com) | [twitter](http://twitter.com/haikyuutiie)


End file.
